


Sanctuary

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't typically look for solace in anyone but herself, but after an enlightening road from Terminus, she realizes she just might have found it in him. </p><p>(Richonne short story. Timeframe: Season 5 Events.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sanctuary

I knew when he left that train car, bound and gagged, that he would make it back. And that's not hubris or me being overconfident – I just know Rick Grimes. So I wasn't worried. In fact, when I heard gunfire, I knew it was the Terminans that were in trouble. It was less than a day ago that I watched Rick tear a man's throat out with his teeth, then turn around and gut the next guy like a fish, so I was very clear that he would do absolutely anything to save his son. That didn't surprise me.

You wanna know what did? When he opened that car door and waited for me.

It was a tiny gesture, really. He probably didn't even think about it, with everything else going on, with trying to make sure Carl was safe, first and foremost. But the fact is, I was second on that list, and that shocked the hell outta me.

I think I recovered from it quickly, didn't show my hand or anything, but if it had been any other situation, and we weren't surrounded by walkers, I'm not so sure I'd be able to say the same. There's something about Rick that simultaneously makes me feel like I can be myself, and yet I don't feel like myself at all. I tend to get lost in his gaze without even meaning to; I smile at him, mostly when he's not looking, because I'm still trying to grasp the fact that he's real, that Carl is real, and they are actual parts of my life. I care for them, I trust him, completely, and it's nearly impossible for me to fathom.

So yes. When Rick opened that train car, and waited for me, I was surprised. It meant that maybe the feeling was mutual.

Hours later and he's sitting outside of this church we managed to find for the night, and he's alone, so I decide to go and sit with him, hoping I'm not interrupting time he would prefer to be by himself.

"You mind if I join you," I wonder quietly, stepping lightly as I move beside him.

He looks up at me with those crazy beautiful blue eyes of his and shakes his head. "Course not."

I take the spot next to him and let out a sigh. What. a. day. "How are you feeling?"

He shakes his head again, this time, as if he's in disbelief. And I imagine he probably is, after everything we've witnessed. "I don't know. I think 'thankful' is the word." I nod at him as he goes on. "I really didn't think I'd ever see her again."

He doesn't have to say her name for me to know he's talking about Judith, and I truly couldn't be happier for him. He deserves this. "When we got to Terminus and she wasn't there, I had given up hope, too," I admit. "Thank god we were wrong."

He looks at me oddly, like I've said something foreign to him. "You were hoping we'd find her?"

"Of course," I frown. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess I didn't think you'd even thought of it," he shrugs. "I don't know why."

"You and I never spoke of her, I guess, but you and Carl… I care about what happens to you."

"I know that," he nods, rubbing at his beard. "Of course I know that."

"I hope you do," I look at him squarely. I need him to understand that I meant it when I said I was done taking breaks. "You guys are my family."

He nods again, and looks down at the ground. Both of our boots are covered in blood and dirt, visible even under the midnight moon. "I didn't get a chance to thank you, by the way. For taking care of Carl today."

"I just figured we were past that," I smile at him as warmly as I can. "You give me a look, I know what it means. The words aren't necessary, Rick."

"I just don't know what he'd do without you, is all." Of course he looks at me then and I can't decipher it. "Hell, I don't know what _I'd_  do without you, Michonne."

I can feel a stupid flutter in my stomach when he says that and it makes me smile again, this time to myself. I can remember a time, not so long ago, when he wanted me gone from the prison. It was like he hated me. And I know it was because he was going through a lot, and I didn't make it easy, but it's funny to me that we're sitting here like this now. That we're really and truly friends now. "The feeling is mutual," I eventually assure him. "And hey, co-parenting can still be a thing in the apocalypse, right?"

"Oh yeah, now that I've got both my kids, it's a necessity," he laughs quietly. It's nice to see him laugh again. I've seen him smile a couple of times, but a real, genuine laugh from this guy is a rarity. Haven't seen that since back at the prison.

"I'm warning you now, I'm not changing any diapers," I joke back. "Judith is gonna have to learn to pee in the woods like the rest of us."

"Oh god, why would you remind me of that?" he chuckles a little louder now. "Promise me you'll handle potty training when the time comes."

"Me?" I find myself somewhat honored that he wants me to potty-train his daughter.

"You wouldn't make her go through that with me," he shakes his head jokingly. "That would just be cruel."

I hadn't thought about it, but I suppose that makes sense. I would have probably asked him to do the same for Andre.

My precious baby, Andre. I've found myself thinking of him a lot today, seeing Rick and Carl reunite with Judith. I'm more delighted for them than I even imagined being, but I miss my little peanut. I would be lying if I said that I didn't wish I were reuniting with him, too. But I can take pleasure in Rick and Carl's happiness. Like I said, they deserve this.

Rick takes me away from my thoughts when his hoarse southern drawl fills the air again. "For the record, I don't just need you as a co-parent," he says, looking over to me seriously. "I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you."

I frown at him, unsure of exactly what he's trying to say. "I'm sure you'd be fine," I smile comfortingly. "You always have, always will do what needs to be done."

He lets out a tiny sigh and then chuckles to himself, kind of sarcastically. "Here I am tryin' to offer you love and you just won't accept it."

Well if that's not the story of my life. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," I grin at the realization. "I'm not good at this. Do it again."

"Nah, it's too late now," he playfully turns from me and crosses his arms. "I'll save it for Daryl."

"Oh, okay." I mimic his actions, pretending to be offended, but keep my eyes on him. It hits me then just how much I enjoy being in his presence. "Hey," I call out to him.

He immediately turns back to me, his eyes seemingly inhaling my face as he waits for me to speak.

"Seriously, I also couldn't do this without you. Or, I mean, I probably could," I reconsider, "but now that I know you… there's no one I'd rather do it with. Just so you know."

"That was an awful compliment," he smiles back at me. "But I'll take it."

"Hey, I willfully admit that I am not good at this."

"At what?"

"At… connecting," I shrug. "I don't know. That's not true."

"Yeah, you and Carl connect just fine, so don't tell that lie." He uncrosses his arms and turns his knees towards me now. "But I get it."

"I don't know what it says about me that I'm better talking to a fourteen-year-old than an adult, but…"

"You're flawed," he declares as he knocks my knee with his own. "Nice to know you have one, at least."

He looks at me in a way that makes me wonder if he's flirting with me. It lingers in the air longer than I'm comfortable with, causing me to smile at him like an idiot. If I didn't have this chocolate skin, he'd know for sure that I was blushing. I finally hit his thigh and just tell him, "Stop looking at me like that."

"What am I looking at you like?" he asks with a silly grin.

"I don't know." With a sigh, I finally tear my eyes away from him and look out into the foreground, a much less alluring view. "You look at me and make me feel like everything is fine."

"Maybe it finally is."

"Oh, I doubt that. There's always some threat lurking around the corner."

"That's true." I can see him nodding in my peripheral. "But against all odds, we all found each other. I mean… Judith is safe," he says in obvious awe. "So maybe… maybe the universe is tryin' to tell us that if we stick together, we're gonna be all right."

I think about this for a moment. I have to admit that my life – at least the one I've lived since I lost Andre – has only gotten better since I found these people. There have been major tragedies along the way, particularly Andrea and Hershel, but we have survived. We did make it this far. I've spent so much time wondering why this world keeps taking things from me, I rarely stop to be thankful for what it's given me. He's right. Maybe we'll be okay, in some form of the word or another.

"Hey, can I tell you somethin'?" I look him in the eye again to ask.

"You can tell me anything." He says it in a way that I know he means it. But then, I don't think he's ever said anything to me that he didn't mean.

I take a deep breath, and after the day we've had, I just know this will hurt as it comes out of my mouth. But I need to say it. I need him to know. "I had a son," I finally admit to Rick, and before I know it, all the tears I've kept to myself come crashing down my face. I can feel his eyes on me, but I can't look at him, not while I cry, so I keep my eyes on the ground. "His name was Andre," I tell him, "and… he was the sweetest little boy in the world. He was my world." I try to wipe some of the tears away as I speak, but it's useless. This hurts. "He died… back at the beginning of all… this. He and his father were bit. And… I had to put him down." I let out another shaky sigh as the memories come flooding back to me. "So I mean it when I say that I understand what you were going through when you lost Judith. And nothing makes me happier than seeing you get that huge piece of your heart back. And I swear I'm crying because I'm happy for you, but… I miss my son."

I pull my knees to my chest and cry harder than I have in a long time. It's almost as if Rick isn't sitting there, and it's just me and my flood of feelings. I never do this in front of people. My tears have always been reserved for when I'm alone. But like I said, something about this man makes me feel more and less unlike myself than should even be possible. This is the Michonne that I hide from everyone else, and I'm not sure why I'm okay with sharing it with him… but I am.

"I'm so sorry," I tell him once I compose myself and hear him sniffling too. The last thing I wanted to do was make him cry. Not today, of all days. He should be happy.

"Don't apologize," he tells me softly. "I don't know what made you decide to tell me that, but I'm glad you did."

"I should go," I say, standing from my crouched position. I feel drained now, the day, this moment, all of it finally catching up to me.

He stands as well, meeting my gaze. "Michonne… Seriously, thank you for telling me."

I nod, but I don't know what to say in reply. Maybe I shouldn't have told him, because now it feels awkward, like he feels sorry for me, but doesn't know how to say it. Or maybe he'll feel bad now for enjoying his daughter, which was never my intention. What do I say? "I'm gonna…go…" I awkwardly point back towards the church and turn for the door, wishing I hadn't ruined his day.

I don't make it to the threshold before he grabs my arm. "Michonne." He says my name in the quietest of whispers, almost as if he's not sure whether he wants me to hear it. But his eyes reel me in, yet again, and he doesn't hesitate to pull me into a hug.

The gesture is so sweet and unexpected, I don't know what to do with it. His arms are at my neck, one of his hands affectionately holding my head, and he squeezes, like he needs this embrace just as much as I do. My tears come to a halt, and I feel myself melting into him as I let my arms wrap around him, too. We become so quiet and so still, I can feel his heart beating against mine.

"We're gonna be all right," he says into my ear and it sounds like a promise.

I nod at his words, desperately wanting them to be true. It's almost scary how much I believe in this man.

He feels warm and familiar. He feels solid and safe. I want to cling to his shirt, bury my face in the curve of his neck. I want to kiss him, God knows I do. But not now. It isn't the right time, the right place. His head is probably still spinning from everything that's happened today, and I don't want to confuse him. Hell, I don't want to confuse myself. Maybe my emotions are getting the best of me right now.

But maybe… Just maybe this is the beginning of something new.


	2. Beach Is Better

Last night, I think Michonne and I had a moment. And maybe that's not the word for it, but I don't know what else to call it. It was something significant, that I don't quite know how to describe.

She told me about her son, Andre, and it damn near broke my heart. I always suspected there was a great loss bubbling just beneath her surface, but when she told me about her boyfriend, I figured that was it. Didn't think much of it. Didn't want to, I guess. But I should've known it was more than that. There's a different pain you experience when you lose a child. I figure you can heal from just about anything, but that's a wound that doesn't leave. It festers, really, and maybe you just learn to ignore it. I have to be the luckiest man in the world, I was only without Judith for a couple of weeks. But that pain was real. And perhaps it was what brought me and Michonne closer without me even knowing it. Even without words, she understood where I was coming from. And now I understand where she's been. Maybe that means we help each other through whatever our next journey turns out to be.

My kids can't replace her son, I know that. That wound will always be there. But I've seen the joy she has when she's with Carl, I feel the hope she has when we're with Judith. I can't take away that pain, and I'm not even sure she would want me to – it's helped mold her into the woman she is today. But maybe, somehow, we can add some good to all the bad she's endured.

It's been a long travel day on this bumpy road to DC, and a little disheartening as we've gotten pushed further east than we have north. I'm tired, I can tell Carl is too, but we've stopped in this beautiful section of Georgia, near Jekyll Island, and I'd like to take a walk along the beach with him and Judith. I wasn't sure she'd ever get to see the ocean, and I can already tell it's blowing her little mind. So I'm gonna do my best to enjoy this evening.

"Hey Dad, can walkers swim?" my son wonders as we pass along where everyone is setting up camp for the night.

I look at him for a moment, trying to figure out the answer to his question. My common sense says they can't, but nothing about these things employs logic. "I'm not sure," I answer honestly as we approach Michonne's tent. She's sitting outside of it, enjoying the view. "You feel like takin' a walk?" I ask her.

She seems intrigued by the idea and immediately pulls herself from the sand in once graceful move. "Where we headed?"

"Just a leisurely stroll," I shake my head and look in the direction of the clear end of the beach. No walker pileups or debris, just sand and water. "I packed a little food for dinner. Nothing fancy."

"Dinner on the beach at sunset? Sounds romantic," she jokes. She shoots me a wink and then props her hands on Carl's shoulders, allowing him to lead the way.

I just roll my eyes and follow the two of them while Judith looks over my shoulder at the rest of the camp, fading into the distance.

The humidity of July has decreased significantly as the sun slowly makes its exit. The breeze from the ocean feels perfect, almost like one of those days before the turn when things were good more often than not. Being with Judy makes me feel that way a lot, I've noticed. Like we've got something to live for other than just being alive. It's for moments like this, I think, when things are quiet, when you get that tiny moment of peace, and you realize this world's not so bad either.

"Hey," I call out to Michonne but she and Carl both turn around. "Let's walk down by the water."

"You mean you're actually gonna take those boots off?" she smiles. "Hold on, let me prepare myself for this."

"You're one to talk." I shoot back with a grin. Yeah, we stink. There's no way around it. We're pretty much used to each other's smells by now.

"I can go in the water?" Carl asks to seemingly both of us.

"Not too far," I tell him, "but sure. Get your feet wet."

He excitedly kicks off his mismatched shoes and hands them to Michonne before rolling up his jeans and running towards the tide.

"Yeah, thanks for waiting for us," she calls after him.

I laugh as I take a seat on the ground, sitting Judith with me, and begin to remove my boots and throw them into our makeshift beach and diaper bag. "I'll take those," I tell her, referring to Carl's shoes. "Yours too."

She quickly obliges and now we're both barefoot, heading towards where my son is kicking up wet sand like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

* * *

The three of us are essentially soaked within the half hour, and even Judith got a minor drenching when we attempted to let her feel the water on her little toes. But you know what? Who's complaining? We're sitting in the sand, enjoying our dinner, and I'm fairly certain that this is what happiness feels like.

"You didn't bring any dessert?" Michonne looks at me once she finishes perusing our beach bag. It's empty, aside from Judith supplies. "What kinda dinner is this?"

"Dad doesn't believe in dessert," Carl declares, also looking at me as if I've disappointed him.

"I don't know if that's true," I laugh, wondering where he gets his information.

"You do seem pretty apathetic about sweets," Michonne appends. "Never understood that about you."

"I love dessert just as much as the next guy." I can't believe I have to defend my dining choices in the freaking apocalypse. "You two are the ones that didn't include me in your candy bar bets."

"You sound a little salty about that," she notes with an interesting smirk playing across her features. She seems amused by my exclusion. "You okay?"

"All I'm saying is, don't accuse me of bein' a dessert hater when you're an active contributor to the problem."

She smiles at me and it feels like the sun never went down. "Fair enough."

I watch Judith in my lap as she plays footsie with my hands, and I realize Carl never answered my question. "I'd still like to know what makes you think I don't like dessert."

He looks at me as he throws his finished can of spinach to the side. "You never ate anything Mom used to bake. Literally never."

I don't want to tell my son that it's because his mother was a terrible cook, and an especially awful baker. Lucky for him, he was too inexperienced to understand how bad it really was. "Maybe I was just watching my figure," I joke, unsure of what else to say.

"Whoa, did you just attempt to be funny?" He looks to Michonne but gestures towards me. "Remember what we said?"

"I do," she smiles at him.

When I realize they're not gonna fill me in, I have to interject. "Now wait a minute, what's this about?"

"It's nothing, Dad. Just an inside joke between me and Michonne."

"About me, though."

"Maybe it's about you," she inserts. "Maybe not."

"First of all, you're an awful liar," I tell her, "and Carl just pointed me out."

"I could've been pointing at Judith," he defends weakly. "In fact, we never even talk about you. Right, Michonne?"

She is obviously stifling a laugh when she replies, "Nope. Never."

"All right, that's enough lies for one night," I announce as Judith and I yawn at the same time. "We oughta be headin' back anyway, before it gets too dark."

"But we just got here," Carl complains. "I wanted to go in the water again."

I look at Michonne to see if she wants to stay too. "It is quite nice out here," she answers with raised eyebrows. "Maybe we can wait a little while?"

"Go on then," I tell Carl, handing him a flashlight. "Stay close where I can see you."

"Yes, Dad."

As he takes off for the shore, Michonne calls after him, "Be careful!"

"Yes, Mom!"

She laughs out loud at his reply, and I suppose we both know he means it sarcastically, but it's an almost jolting thing to hear after not hearing those words in nearly a year. I imagine it probably is for her too, but she plays it off well, continuing her meal with a small smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry about that," I say to her softly. "Tact isn't exactly his strong suit."

"He's fine," she assures me with a dismissive wave. "It's his way of saying he respects my authority."

I nod appreciatively at her assessment. "You really are very good with him."

"And you're good with her," she looks down at Judith, who's still fighting sleep for dear life. "Feels good to have the gang back together."

I can't tell whether she means the four of us or the entire group, so I give a vague response. "It really does. Doesn't feel right any other way."

She suddenly begins to move all of the extraneous items on our blanket and then scoots back so that she can lie flat, her head resting adjacent to my thigh. She's so close, Judith could reach down and slap her in the forehead if she wanted to. Michonne sighs and it sounds as if she's content as she looks up into the sky, most likely at the stars. They're bright tonight.

"What happens when we make it to Washington? If we make it to Washington?"

" _When_  we make it," I correct her with my own sigh. "I dunno."

"It won't be like Georgia."

"No, it won't. Lots more buildings and a lot less nature."

"More people means more walkers."

I nod, even though she can't really see me. "There's gotta be a place for us."

"Even if we have to make it ourselves."

"After Woodbury and Terminus, I'm not sure I could trust a place we didn't make ourselves."

"We could take the White House," she jokes, letting her eyes land on me now. "You, me, and the kids could live in the West Wing."

I smile at the thought. "I could use the Rose Garden for farming again."

"And I still wouldn't help," she grins back.

"And if by some miracle, Eugene really does know how to cure this thing... we become the First Family by default."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that," she smiles even wider now. "I'd be the President, though."

"Of course," I chuckle. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Oh, you are so full of shit, Rick Grimes."

"I just gave up the Presidency for you. Why would you insult me like this?"

"Because I don't believe you would!"

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," I remind her. I don't mean to turn our conversation serious, but it's true. "I'm tired, Michonne."

"Yeah, but you're good at this. You were made for this."

"I think I can say the same thing about you."

"I'm good at leading myself," she counters. "The patience you have for other people, the people you care about, it's astounding, Rick. I don't have that."

"That's exactly what you have." My hand instinctively goes to caress her hair, and I'm not sure why. But she doesn't stop me – in fact, she doesn't even look up when I do it, so I continue. "You had patience and time for Carl when even I didn't."

"He's a good kid, Rick. It's not that hard."

"Mothers have the hardest job in the world," I whisper when I see that Judith has finally knocked herself out. "Mothers are leaders whether they wanna be or not. That intuition kicks in and that's just... who you are."

She nods underneath my touch. "You'd really follow me?"

"To the ends of the Earth, Michonne."

She smiles and I swear it rivals the glow of the moon. "Then let's take over the goddamn White House."

"Sounds like we've got ourselves a plan," I laugh.

She pulls herself up seemingly effortlessly, and turns to face me. Her eyes are inquisitive, as if she can get an answer to her unspoken question by just looking at me. And truth be told, she probably could. "Did you invite me out here tonight out of pity?"

I frown at her, confused by the question. "What?"

"Did you ask me to come with you guys tonight because you feel sorry for me? Because of what I told you last night?"

"No," I chuckle nervously. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm just making sure." She turns her body so that we're sitting side by side now, watching Carl watch the water. "I don't need a pity party."

"If there's anything I know about you, it's that."

She gives me an understanding nod. "After that hug last night, I wasn't sure what you thought of me."

"I can't give you a hug?"

"No, it's just that… you never have before," she sighs. "I figured you might have started to look at me differently."

"Maybe I did," I confess quietly, looking over to gauge her reaction. She looks scared by my admission. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," she shakes her head adamantly, but her face says she's anything but sure of her response. "No, it's not bad. I just… I don't want things to change between us."

"Not even for the better?"

"Depends on your definition of 'better.'"

She offers a bashful smile and I can feel my heart begin to race. That smile, man. I can't help but study the curve of her lips, and it makes me wonder what they feel like. I've wondered it plenty of times, actually, in these small, quiet moments we've been having recently. Now might be the perfect time to just throw my thoughts out there and let the chips fall where they may, but… we've had a good evening, and quite honestly, I'm too nervous to do or say anything that might ruin it. So I let the moment pass and continue to watch Carl watch the water.

She does the same.


	3. Tender Is The Night

_I hope that you're the one_  
_If not, you are the prototype_  
_We'll tiptoe to the sun_  
_And do thangs I know you like  
_ _I think I'm in love again_

I'm beginning to find it almost alarming how much I'm enjoying spending time with Rick and his kids. I know I joked about us co-parenting, which wasn't much of a joke, I suppose, but sometimes, it feels like we've always been together. Like we've known each other forever and that Carl and Judith are just my very,  _very_  pale spawns.

This trek to DC has definitely brought us closer together, a bit to everyone's surprise, it seems, including me. We had a really beautiful evening on the beach a few days ago, and we returned to a lot of hoops and hollers from the rest of the group. But I didn't care – it was rather amusing, if I'm being honest. I like seeing Rick smile, but seeing him blush is quite a sight. I can't say that I know what's happening between us, but whatever it is, I think I like it.

It's dark and it's late and Rick and I are sitting at the back of our little bus, enjoying one another's company as best we can with everyone else just a few feet away. Abraham is driving us through Virginia, so the roar of the engine conceals most of our conversation, but Judith and Carl are directly beside us, so we keep it all to a whisper.

"Is Carl gonna be okay with you sharing this game with me?" Rick looks over to me inquisitively. Even in the darkness, I can see the sparkle of those gorgeous blue eyes.

We're playing this silly game that Carl and I invented, called I'm Just Curious. It's all about clearing the air and asking things that've maybe been on your mind, but never had the courage to ask in a normal setting. Carl and I have gotten to know each other pretty well this way, even if it gets uncomfortable sometimes. In fact, that's part of the fun of it.

"He'll be fine," I wave him off. "He's wanted to include you for a while. It was me that kept you out of the loop."

"Now why would you go and do somethin' like that?"

His accent melts me, I swear. I can't help but smile back at him. "I dunno. I think I was afraid of what you would ask me."

"You thought I'd ask something inappropriate?" He seems almost offended by the notion.

"No, no, not at all," I quickly assure him. "Just something that I'd inevitably be uncomfortable answering."

"Well, that's the point of the game, isn't it," he smirks. "Now I feel bad for keeping my Oreos from him. All this time, you were the culprit."

I'm positive that I hear a record scratch right then. "I'm sorry, what's this about Oreos?"

"I said what I said," he gives an impish stare, like he knows he's got a secret that he's not about to tell me. "It's your turn, by the way."

"No, the game is officially on pause," I say at a nearly normal volume. "Where are the Oreos, Rick?"

"Judith and I ate them, Michonne."

"Judith!" I whisper harshly. "She has like three teeth."

"She has eight," he shoots back defensively. "And yes, Judith. You and Carl share candy bars, Judith and I share cookies."

"That's so rude," I shake my head in disbelief. Hiding food. Here I thought we were family. But then, I'm certain I hid food from my family when I was younger, so maybe this just solidifies the notion. "You got any left?"

"I'm not telling you," he laughs. "Ask your damn question."

"You know I'm just gonna ask about these cookies."

"You need help," he looks to me, pretending to be serious. "They're in Judy's diaper bag."

"Real smart, hiding them where you know I'll never look."

"I know you well," he replies with his eyebrows raised wittingly. "So watch yourself."

"Oh, I think you do that enough for both of us," I shoot back teasingly.

"Is that how you wanna play this?" he chuckles quietly. "Like you're not always grinning at my back like a lost puppy."

"Did you just compare me to a dog?" I want to yell at him but I restrain myself to continue our whisper. "When you're the one that stares at my ass more than you do my face? Really?"

"That… is not true," he makes a weak attempt at defending himself. "I stare at your ass once a day, tops. I'm constantly looking at your face."

I stare at him, making sure to relay my lack of amusement. "Whose turn is it?"

"I think it's still yours."

Perfect. I've got my question locked and loaded. " _Why_  are you always staring at my ass?" I demand, punching his thigh in the process. "I'm just curious."

"It's just so…" He shakes his head, like he's unable to find the words he's looking for, but holds his hands out as if he's holding a ball… or a shapely behind, I suppose. "It's fantastic, Michonne. Are you really gonna hold that against me?"

Well I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought of holding my ass against him. But that's another story for another day. "Only if you're lucky," I smirk.

An odd smile forms on his face and I can tell he's thinking something mischievous. "I've been pretty lucky lately, you know."

"I have noticed that."

"So in that case, I have to ask. Or rather, I'm just curious," he corrects himself. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"About us. You know… together. Sexually."

Oh god. I hate him. I swear I do. "You're really gonna make me answer this?"

"You asked me what my first time was like and I answered," he reminds me. "Hell, I'll tell you right now that I've thought about it plenty of times."

"You are crazy," I can't help but laugh at his candor. But then, I already knew that. "Of course I've thought about it," I finally admit.

"Shit. Really?" He seems in disbelief and I'm not sure why.

"You're attractive, so am I," I shrug. "And it's been a  _long_  time. Sometimes the thoughts run rampant."

"And now I'm even more curious," he grins.

"Well you're not getting any more than that, so I suggest you move on."

"Fair enough."

"But I will say," I continue speaking for reasons unbeknownst to me, "when we shared that bed in Charleston? I might've gotten a little… excited that night."

"In Charleston?" He frowns as he tries to recollect that night. "What do you mean by excited?"

"I mean I might've gone to the bathroom to handle some business."

His jaw drops in overdramatic shock and he appears to be utterly amused by my admission. He knocks my thigh with his hand before offering, "You should've just told me. I could've helped you out."

A quiver goes through my body at the mere thought. Good god, if just the idea can make me shake, I imagine the actual act would probably kill me. "I handled it," I assure him.

"Well next time, just call me," he winks.

I know he's joking, but I am beginning to squirm in my seat as I think about it. I've seen Rick in a few… compromising positions, if you will, and I'm pretty sure he's blessed in the area I need him to be blessed in. Maybe one day… "We should change the subject," I declare nervously. We could get into some dangerous territory if we continue down this path. I actually can't believe I just told him I rubbed one out a few feet away from him.

He's obviously still entertained by my confession, but he thankfully moves on. "Well it's your turn."

"Oh man," I sigh. I rest my head against the back of the seat, looking up to the ceiling of the bus. We've asked each other all the simple things I can think of – our lives before, our triumphs, our regrets, our strange little habits. I didn't want to be the first to throw out the curveball, but I want our conversation to keep going, so I just bite the bullet and do it. "I'm just curious… what did you mean when you said our relationship could change for the better?"

"Okay, we're going there," he sighs too, and then looks over to me. "Are you sure I said that?"

It was nearly a week ago, back when we were on the beach, but I'm more than sure he said it. "Yes. You did."

"I umm… I'm not sure what I meant," he says, scratching at his beard. "I guess I just hope we keep moving forward, that we grow. And whatever that turns into… is whatever it turns into."

"I see."

"I don't even know if that's an answer, but… I don't know how to explain it."

I nod understandingly. I don't understand it all myself, so it makes sense that he can't necessarily put it into words either. This reminds me of being in junior high, going on those field trips to some museum or farm. I never cared about the actual destination, because the most exciting thing about the whole ordeal was being able to sit next to my crush on the bus. Laughing with him, flirting with him, feeling like we were actually together for the length of that bus ride. And that's my favorite thing about all of this. Rick makes me feel like a teenager again. "I get it."

"Do you? Because it didn't seem like you did at the time."

"Oh, shut up," I smile. "I was still recovering from my confession."

"Oh, speaking of which," he whispers a little lower now, "I'm just curious why you decided to share that with me. About your son, I mean."

"I dunno, I guess I was feeling close to you that night. After everything with Judith, seeing you become fulfilled again. I just wanted to let you know what was going on with me."

He's nodding as he plays with the wedding ring on his finger. "Are you glad you told me?"

"You don't get two questions in a row, sir."

"I think I do."

"Who told you that rule?"

"When we started, you didn't say follow-up questions weren't allowed, so…"

"Rick…"

"Tell me I'm wrong," he grins cockily.

I can only shake my head, because he's not wrong, but he is ridiculous. "Yes, I'm glad I told you. I'm glad that I've learned how to trust you."

"And now I have my next question." He looks happy about his epiphany. "You go."

"Let's see…" I let out a long exhale as I try to conjure up a question that he won't want to answer. The only danger in that is that he'll probably turn around and ask me that same thing. Carl is an expert at that. But I'm just going to go for it anyway. "All right. I'm just curious, what was your first impression of me?"

"Oh, don't make me answer that."

"Why not," I demand, trying to decide whether I should be offended.

"Because…" His hand goes through his hair, as if he's nervous or shy about answering, but finally, he starts speaking again. "Fine. My very first impression was, 'Why the fuck aren't those walkers tryin' to eat her?' And then the thought that immediately followed was, 'That is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life."

I can feel that flutter in my stomach that always wants to come out when he's around, but I suppress it with a laugh and I shove his shoulder with my own. "You are such a liar."

"What is the point of playin' this game if you're not gonna believe anything I say?"

"I would believe you if you would just be honest."

"Michonne, I've never said anything to you that I didn't mean," he confirms with a small smile. "If there's anything you need to know about me, it's that."

And I think I already did know that. It's just hard for me to accept things as fact when they sound too good to be true. "So you thought I was beautiful? All covered in walker guts and blood?"

"Absolutely."

"You have strange taste, Rick Grimes."

"Well I like you, so obviously…"

I nudge him with my shoulder a little harder this time, but we're both smiling at one another like idiots, yet again. "Go, weirdo."

"I feel like I should ask you your first impression of me, but I'm much more interested in what it is now."

"My impression of you?" I watch him nod and I take a deep breath. I knew that question would come back to bite me in the ass. How do I describe how I feel about him?

_I think I'm in love again_

"You wanna know mine?" he thankfully interrupts my haphazard thoughts to ask. He watches me as I nod and goes on to answer his own question. "I don't know how you're gonna take this, but this is something I recognized when you insisted that I needed rest at that house we were holed up in right after the prison? Of course, you almost got me killed," he jokes, "but I remember thinking to myself, 'What the hell would I have done if she hadn't shown up?' And I catch myself thinking that a lot now. Who would I be if you hadn't shown up to the prison? Who would Carl be? The truth is that you saved us, Michonne. And I feel myself becoming the me that I always dreamt of being." He nods seriously. "You saved me."

I can feel my face flush again, and now tears are threatening to spill out onto my cheeks. I can't imagine there exists a better compliment than that. I want to slap him and kiss him at the same time for the way he makes me feel. "You've gotta warn a girl before you go and say something like that."

"And you've gotta answer the question," he smiles happily at me.

I still don't have a response – certainly not one greater than or equal to what he's just said. But I say what I feel. "You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known. And even that's an understatement."

"Oh, you cheated. You can't quote someone else and call it yours."

"It doesn't make it any less true," I smirk back at him.

"All right," he nods with a playful grin. "I'll take that."

"Damn right you will."

"Thank you, Michonne."

"Don't thank me," I return looking down bashfully. "I mean it."

"I know you do." Without warning, he takes my left hand into his right and intertwines his fingers with mine.

Our hands just rest there on the seat between us, and it's so simple but it feels almost whimsical. I can't remember the last time I felt like this. And maybe it is cheating, but I don't care – I have to quote my favorite author once again. "I wish I'd done everything on Earth with you."

His face barely reacts to my statement, just a nearly imperceptible smile. But he squeezes my hand as I rest my head on his shoulder, and I know it's real. This is definitely the beginning of something new.

"Hey, Rick?" I call out to him almost silently.

"Hmm?" He sounds like he's teetering on the edge of sleep.

"I'm just curious when you're gonna shave that beard."

He laughs lightly and I can feel the vibration of it underneath my face. "You've been tryin' to get me shave since we met."

"That's not true. You were just fine when we first met."

"But now I disgust you."

It's my turn to laugh now. "I'd just like to see that pretty face. That's all."

"Well you find me another razor and I'll get rid of it. Just for you."

I can hear the smile in his voice and it's all I need to know. "You've got yourself a deal."

_I think I'm in love again_

* * *

_Lyrics: "Prototype" - Outkast (The Love Below)_


	4. Are We There Yet?

Well, we made it. We've safely arrived at the nation's capital – or more accurately, to Alexandria, VA – but close enough. We're here, and we're safe, and now Eugene is free to save the world or whatever the hell he's claiming. I've got a family to worry about, so his daily activities are pretty low on my list of priorities at the moment.

The most miraculous part of all this is that we've been extended an offer to join this community, the Alexandria Safe Zone. We were damn near taken hostage in order to get here, and then had to audition for the chance to actually stay, but it seems that we passed, because right now, we're touring the neighborhood with the leader here, a fairly kind gentleman named Douglas.

I'm not 100% sold on this place – I'll probably be sleeping with one eye open for the next few months, if I even sleep at all – but I don't get that bad feeling I've had with all the other ones. From Dave and Tony, on up to Gareth, I always had that gnawing in the pit of my stomach that told me these were people I should leave alone. But I didn't have that with Aaron and Eric, the two guys that brought us here, and certainly not with Douglas. Two years in this hellscape has made me pretty untrusting, and that was on top of being a cop who assumed everyone is always lying to me anyway. But I feel better about this place than I have anything in a long time. I feel like this could be... it.

I look back at Michonne, who's carrying Judith, and I instantly catch her eye. I've noticed it's become increasingly easy to find her already looking at me since we've begun this journey. With just the glance, I'm able to ask her what she thinks, and she gives me a fairly unnoticeable nod, relaying that she thinks we should give this a try.

"So that's the gist of it," Douglas is saying as we stop in front of a small cluster of houses. They're nice ones too, all of them ranch-style two-bedroom homes with yards and driveways. It's all so indiscernible from the old days. "These are the houses we have open," he goes on to gesture to the three behind him and two across. "You're welcome to split the five however you'd prefer."

"Michonne and I can take one with the kids," I pipe up without even thinking. I haven't asked her if that's what she'd want. Maybe she's sick of me and my kids by now. "If that's okay with you," I quickly add when she joins my side.

"Of course it is." She frowns as if that's the dumbest question she's ever heard and I immediately feel better.

I go on to split the rest of the group, just so we can get it settled quickly. I think I know everyone well enough to divvy them up accordingly. "Tyreese and Sasha, right here across the way, and Daryl and Carol, I need you in the house diagonal from us." I want our strongest people strategically placed. "Eugene, Rosita, Abraham, this house on the end," I point towards the home one over from mine. "And Glenn, Maggie, Tara, I'm gonna put y'all right next to us."

Everyone seems satisfied with their assignments, so we begin to disperse after parting ways with Douglas. I don't think he'd like for me to continue being the leader of my own little group, but until things get settled, and we decide this is our home, he's gonna have to deal with it.

Michonne, Carl, Judith, and I are standing in the driveway of our new house, all four of us staring up in disbelief. I honestly never thought I'd have a home again.

"This is insane," Carl declares, reading my mind. "I feel like something's gonna pop out and kill us as soon as we open the door."

"I just love your sunny disposition," Michonne shakes her head as she hands over my daughter to my son. She then looks to me expectantly. "Shall we?"

I know that means that the two of us are taking on the task of making sure the house is safe, but it doesn't stop me from staring at her like a dummy for a few seconds too long. "Yes. We shall," I finally reply as I hand her the keys to our new castle.

* * *

"Michonne, I really think I can handle this part."

"And so can I," she retorts calmly, but contradicts her tone as she roughly pushes me onto the bathroom countertop. She's just finished giving me a haircut, which I can admit she did a good job with, but now she insists on shaving my beard, which I'm not quite as comfortable with. "Just calm down," she tries to quiet me.

"I am calm," I assure her, but still refuse to sit back. "I just don't need you to do this part…"

She finally stops pushing and narrows her eyes at me. "You don't trust me?"

"O-of course I do," I stammer, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'm just… not sure… about this."

"I know what I'm doing," she promises.

Well I don't like the sound of that. "You been shavin' other guys besides me?"

"I had a life before you, you know." Also something I don't want to hear, but I digress. She gives me a soft pat along the side of my torso, guiding me backwards on the counter. "Relax, Rick."

With a nervous sigh, I finally do as told and let her take the lead. She grabs a warm, wet towel from the sink to my left and then moves between my legs to cover my face with it. It's an odd feeling to be sitting in my own bathroom, attached to my own bedroom, in my own house. It's so much more space than we've had in a long time, and the fact that we have actual privacy is nearly astounding.

We've been in this bathroom for half an hour now, and I've already forgotten that the rest of the group is camped out in my living room. I asked that everyone sleep here tonight, just in case these Alexandria people try to kill us, but in just a few hours, I've noticed the shift in nearly everyone's demeanor. As much as I know we can't let our guards down, I'm sorta glad that they've already started to.

"How do you feel about this place?" I ask Michonne as she drapes a dry towel over my neck.

"Well. I've got my own bedroom. I just took a shower with hot water in my own bathroom. We've got food. We've got electricity." She shakes her head in probably the same disbelief that I've had all day. Then, she grabs the can of shaving gel to my right and sprays a dollop into her hand. "I've got absolutely no complaints."

I nod, watching her fingers gently lather the foam and then bring her hands to my face. She looks me in the eye as she covers my beard, and I refuse to drop her gaze. It's intense. I can feel my whole body stiffen at the contact.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she smirks.

"What am I looking at you like?"

"Like you wanna eat me."

Our faces are so close, I could probably kiss her if I wanted to. But I just smile back, keeping my focus on her gorgeous doe eyes. She's flawless. "Maybe that's because I do." I see her begin to stumble backwards in reply, and I grab her arm before she can get too far. "Or not…"

She smiles shyly when I release my grip. "What did I tell you about catching me off guard like that?"

"I've seen you in action on several occasions, Michonne. You're not gonna convince me I can catch you off guard."

She shrugs. "I know to expect the bad things. It's the good things I'm never prepared for." She finally looks down to grab the razor, and cups my face before beginning. "Don't move," she warns me.

I nod only slightly and keep my eyes on her the entire time that she works. A grimace covers her features as she brings the blade to my face, softly gliding it along my cheek as she removes the hair she's been telling me to shave for an entire year now. I want to smile at how focused she is, but I don't. I just watch.

The further she gets, the more I can feel her breath on my face. It smells fresh, almost like parsley, which makes me wonder where she would've gotten it from. She's such a wonderful mystery to me sometimes. And other times, I feel like I can read her mind. I love it. I think I may even love her. I want her. I want her around. Constantly.

"You okay?" she asks quietly as she moves the razor over my chin. "Just blink if you are."

"Kiss me." I make sure not to blink when her eyes dart up at me, and in fact, I double down, daring her to look away. Daring her not to kiss me.

She drops the razor to the counter and grins at me. "What?"

"You heard me."

I can tell she wants to. She licks her own lips as she stares at mine. But she doesn't make the move.

Well, I've initiated all of our physical contact up to now, I have no problem continuing to do so. I move my entire body forward, we're so close that our chests are almost touching, and our noses definitely are. My hands instinctively go to her face, and our lips graze for only a second before there's a knock at the door. Fuck.

"No!" Michonne calls back, not caring who's on the other side. She's obviously just as frustrated as I am.

"Michonne?" It sounds like Glenn.

I drop my head in disappointment, because the moment is gone. "This is why you should've just done it when I said to," I whisper to her before answering our visitor. "What do you want?"

"Rick?" He's obviously confused. "Whose room is this?"

Michonne giggles adorably at his bewilderment and picks up the razor again. "We'll be out in a minute."

"Some lady is here with our dinner. They're asking for you, Rick."

"We'll be out in a minute," I repeat, a little harsher than Michonne had. It's bad enough he's interrupted my kiss, but I'm gonna get my shave, dammit.

* * *

We've lived in Alexandria for two weeks now and no one's tried to kill us, capture, us, eat us – none of that. In fact, these people are pretty damn weak. From what I can tell, our group has been the biggest threat this place has seen since the whole thing started. Lucky them, I guess. But it's good for us, because even if we did let our guards down, I'm pretty confident we could take them fairly easily if we needed to.

So for once, instead of danger, we've been focused on getting acclimated to this new life. Just as we were getting used to the old new life, the universe throws us for a loop and injects some normalcy back into our lives. I'm sure as hell not complaining. I've gotten used to this real quick, in fact.

I come home one Friday night from a long day of training to find Michonne sitting on our couch, reading with a flashlight. I turn on the one lamp in the room and give her a tired smile. She looks beautiful, sitting there crosslegged. Her hair is up in a bun, and she's wearing boxers and a tank top, because as it turns out, July up north is the same as it is down south – it's hot. "You can use the lights, you know," I say, announcing my presence.

She smiles brightly, proving that she probably didn't actually need the light, and pats the spot next to her on the sofa. "Hey."

I oblige her silent request and plop down next to her with a sigh. "Hey."

"I know I can use the light," she says, turning to face me. "I just don't like to. Feels like a waste now that I know I can live without it."

She's right. I nod. "Carl's in bed already?"

"He went to put Judith to bed, but he never came back out, so I let him be."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to sleep in tomorrow," I note with my own yawn. Carl hasn't been a big fan of the fact that he's being required to go to school again. But it's good for him to have a purpose every day. It's good for all of us.

"We'll all be," she smirks.

"You're not off tomorrow, are you?"

"You don't have me on the schedule."

I frown in confusion at this news. I try to always put us on training duty together. "Why would I put myself on the schedule and not you?"

"Same reason I get to come home earlier than you. The kids."

"Oh yeah… that would be a good reason," I remember tiredly. "Forgive me, it's been a rough week."

"It's been rough a lot longer than that," she corrects me with a grin. "Come here." She repositions so that her feet drop to the floor and motions for me to rest my head in her lap.

I use her thighs as my pillow, and I can feel the warmth of her skin on my neck. She smells divine, like honeysuckle, and I close my eyes as I let my other senses revel in the moment. "Do you like it here, Michonne?"

"I like it wherever you are," she retorts so quickly, I know she has to mean it.

"It's not quite the White House, but… it'll do."

"It's better than the White House," I can hear the smile in her voice. "It's our house."

I smile back without pause. "Glenn asked me whether this meant we were officially together," I chuckle lightly. "Us livin' together, I mean."

"Yeah, Sasha asked me the same thing. Most of the folks here just assume we are."

I open my eyes to stare up at her face now. "What'd you tell Sasha?"

She shrugs and shakes her head indifferently. "I told her the truth. That I didn't know what it meant."

I nod against her and yawn again.

"Does it mean anything?"

"It means… I want you close to me."

She begins to run her fingers through my hair. It's not much, but the small touch is arousing me from my sleepiness. "That what you told Glenn?"

"I also told him that I don't know what we're doing. I just want you to be happy, Michonne." I eye her from head to torso and then go back up to meet her gaze again. "But I do wanna be the reason."

She stares at me only momentarily before she lowers her head to meet mine. Our lips touch, and it's awkward at first, because of our positions, but we soon squarely find one another, and it's everything I imagined it being. Her lips are so soft, they feel like silk. I want more of her. I want all of her. I run my tongue across her lips, wanting inside of her mouth, and she answers immediately, letting her tongue find mine. For some reason, I always imagined our first kiss to be wild and chaotic, but it's nearly the opposite. It's more of a waltz than a tango. It's romantic.

Which is why I'm shocked when I feel her hands unbuttoning my shirt. Her fingers work quickly, and mine start to as well, moving underneath her tank top to feel the soft, warm skin of her torso.

She pulls out of our kiss to stare at me, almost frantically. "We're really doing this," she realizes. "You know that, right?"

I finally sit up and finish removing my shirt for her. "That's what happens when you start taking off someone's clothes," I chuckle quietly. "Usually, at least."

"Shut up," she grins and hits me in the chest. "I just… I mean, we're doing this with clear heads, right? I don't want this to ruin anything."

"This is gonna ruin everything," I answer with a smile. That's what I'm counting on, anyway.

We change positions so that she's straddling my lap. Her lips are running along my bare shoulders while mine are doing the same to her. I've got the hem of her tank top clutched in my hands, ready to pull it off, to reveal what I've already imagined to be a perfect pair of breasts. But it's like the universe knows exactly how close I am to all this flawlessness, because it's then that we hear Judith start to cry. Judith. She's supposed to be the good kid. We share Oreos and everything. I thought we were friends.

Fuck.


	5. XO

I wasn't looking when I met him, but somehow, he's turned out to be everything I was looking for. How is that possible? How am I so lucky? I wonder this every single morning when I wake up, knowing he's right down the hall. Knowing that he's going to stumble into the kitchen in his boxers, give all three of us a peck on our cheeks, grab a piece of toast, and head off to start his day. I love how absolutely mundane it all is.

Today, however, is a little bit different. It's Sunday, and I've asked Daryl and Carol if they could take the kids for the day, just so we can get some alone time. I've been waiting to see Rick naked for months now, but every time we get close, something seems to get in the damn way. I'm not having it this time.

As I return from dropping the kids off, I find Rick standing in the kitchen, where several bags are adorning the table. I look at him curiously, wondering what he's up to, and then request his attention. "Psst."

He turns, that beautiful face of his on full display now that that stupid beard is gone. "Hey," he greets me.

"What's going on in here?" I start to inspect the bags, finding food in two of them, some sort of blanket and candles in another, and the last one empty. "You runnin' away?"

"Quite the opposite." He plants that aforementioned kiss on my cheek and then another on my lips. "Not as long as you're here."

"So then... What's all this?"

"It's called 'a surprise,' Michonne. How about you try and enjoy it?"

"Oh, well excuse me," I retort as though I'm offended. "I'll just sit here and be quiet, I guess."

"I'd rather you sit there," he pointed to the counter. "And talk to me."

"So demanding," I shake my head as I do as told and hop onto the countertop. From there, I can see he's already begun chopping vegetables, and there's a pan full of some kind of ground meat on the stove. I can't believe he's making me dinner.

"I love Sundays around here," he announces, moving fluidly across the small space of our kitchen. He grabs a ziplock bag full of couscous before turning back to me. "It's so quiet."

"That's funny, I kind of like the noise," I decide right then. "The construction during the week, the kids running through the streets... It feels like before."

"I thought you didn't miss what was before," he reminds me with a wink.

True enough, when I thought my sword was gone, I said I didn't miss it. But I think getting it back reminded me that there were a lot of good things that I'd dismissed because of all the bad. In fact, Rick reminds me of this every day. "I guess I lied."

"Shameless," he shakes his head playfully.

I watch his hands work as he dices and slices tomatoes and peppers. I halfway wonder where he got all this food from, but I'm too entranced with his movements to really care too much. All I need to know, all I'll remember at the end of today is that he got it for me. I wonder if he was always like this. It's hard to imagine him as the romantic type, knowing how business-like he tends to be. But I'm betting it's hard to imagine me as an outgoing chick, and that's precisely what I was before the turn.

"You cook for a lot of women?" I decide to ask, though I hate to interrupt his stride.

His hands stop moving and he looks up at me with a bashful grin. "Not unless you include Judith on that list."

"And I don't," I smile back at him.

"Then no. You'd be my first."

"I like the sound of that." I use my foot to corral him into the space between my legs, and I lean in to give him a soft kiss. I plan for it to be short and sweet, but he doesn't release when I start to pull away. He deepens it, in fact, resting his hands on my hips just as our tongues begin to touch. I begin to wonder if we even need the dinner. We're obviously ready to devour each other.

"We're gonna ruin dessert if we do this now," he says once we're able to pull apart from each other.

I have to smile at the fact that we're finally putting a time stamp on it. This is happening tonight. After we eat. There's a rumbling in my stomach just thinking about it. The anticipation will likely kill me, but I guess that's what he's going for. "How do you expect me to eat now?" I wonder in jest.

"You better find a way," he warns me with raised eyebrows and one more kiss to my nose. "You're gonna need your energy."

Oh.

* * *

Dinner comes and it's quite beautiful in its execution. He's set our dining room table, complete with a tablecloth and a very lovely black, white, and gold china set. I have no idea where he found it, which makes it all the more astounding. And the only light in the room is by candle. We always make fun of people for wasting candles in the apocalypse, but tonight, it's the only thing that would be appropriate.

"Glad you could make it," he greets me softly, his blue eyes scanning me from head to toe. We've been apart all of twenty minutes, but he eyes me as if it's been forever.

"You like?" I ask, referring to the dress I'm wearing. It's the one and only nice thing I own at the moment, and I wanted him to be the first to see me in it. It's a fairly simple little black dress, as far as LBDs go, but it does leave little to the imagination. It hugs my body, has a deep V-neck, and stops at the top of my thighs. It's a dress you wear when you're planning to get laid.

He nods, seemingly mesmerized by it, so my work here is done. "You look fantastic," he finally tells me.

"Well thank you, sir." He always looks fantastic, but with the way his curls frame his face, it's especially true tonight. Have I mentioned how glad I am that he's shaved?

He pulls a chair out for me and I take a seat, attempting to pull my dress down as I do. "No point in that," he whispers as he pours me a glass of wine. "It'll be off soon enough."

A shiver goes down my spine and I have to grab the table to brace myself. "You're awful," I smile.

"Can't say that now. You already told me I'm the most perfect person you've ever met."

"I don't think that's quite what I said," I laugh.

"Paraphrasing."

_What would I do without your smart mouth?_  
_Drawing me in and you kicking me out_  
_You've got my head spinning, no kidding  
_ _I can't pin you down_

I watch him serve dinner – stuffed peppers and toasted French bread – before taking his seat across from me. "This looks incredible," I tell him. The candlelight casts this warm glow upon his face, making his eyes appear almost green. I can't stop staring.

"Where were you born?" he asks me, apropos of nothing. He stares back, waiting for an answer.

"Atlanta," I answer with a frown, confused as to where that came from. "Where were you born?"

"Same."

"Really?"

He nods. "Northside Hospital."

"Piedmont," I return, somewhat dumbfounded. I assumed he'd always lived in that small town we visited last autumn. I don't know why. "Wow."

"Is that shocking?"

"I just didn't know you were from Atlanta."

"I didn't know you were either," he shrugs as he cuts into his pepper. "That's why I asked. I wanna know everything about you."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

_What's going on in that beautiful mind?_  
_I'm on your magical mystery ride_  
_And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me  
_ _But I'll be all right_

"That could take a while," I warn him playfully. "And maybe even bore you to death."

"That's impossible," he shoots back quickly. "Everything about you intrigues me."

"You actually care that I won a national spelling bee when I was twelve?"

"What was the winning word?" he interrogates, answering my question in the process.

"Onomatopoeia." I take a few bites of my food, sighing deeply at its deliciousness. I almost find it hard to believe this is real. I'm in the midst of the end of the world, and I'm sitting in a dining room, eating bell peppers stuffed with couscous and ground turkey. It seems like this should be part of some very vivid dream.

"You were a lawyer before, right?"

"I was."

"Criminal?"

"Worked in the Fulton County DA's office," I confirm.

"So we were on the same side."

"So it would appear." Not that that's surprising. Rick and I have been on the same page for a long time now. Even before he realized he could trust me.

"What was your mom like?"

I chuckle to myself, realizing he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to know everything. And I don't hesitate to tell him, regaling him with details about my life. My growing up in a predominantly white neighborhood, then attending a historically black college and being nearly shocked by the culture shift. I tell him about how I lived in Paris for a year after becoming disillusioned by the justice system. That's where I met Mike, and that that was where Andre was conceived. He notices that I smile when I talk about him, which is a huge departure from when I first spoke of him. I tell him that's because I'm happy now, thanks to him, thanks to Carl, thanks to Judith. I feel complete, somehow. Or on my way to it, at least.

_My head's under water but I'm breathing fine  
_ _You're crazy and I'm out of my mind_

"Michonne, what do you want at the end of this life?" he wonders as we finish our meals. He's pouring more wine as he looks me in the eye.

"I want this."

"This?"

"This," I repeat, pushing my empty plate to the side to bring my glass in front of me. "You. This family," I explain softly. "I hit rock bottom, and you and the kids became the foundation that I rebuilt my life with. You're all I need."

His eyes close, and for a moment I think he's meditating, but then he speaks. "I want that, too."

"You're so fucking beautiful," I smile.

He stands from his seat and comes to my side of the table, offering me his hand. "I was just thinking the same about you."

I take his proffered hand and follow him to my bedroom, where more candles line my dresser. And then my eyes focus a bit more and I realize it's also decorated with cookies. Oreos, to be exact. I smile so hard that tears begin to run down my cheeks. He really is the most perfect person I've ever met.

_How many times do I have to tell you, even when you're crying you're beautiful too_  
_The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood_  
_You're my downfall, you're my muse_  
_My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues  
_ _I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you_

He stands behind me now and moves my hair to kiss the back of my neck, causing the tears to fall harder. I don't know whether I'm just excited or way too happy, but I do know that I'm ready.

I turn and face him, using his shoulders as leverage to hop up and wrap my legs around his waist. He responds accordingly, his tongue running along my neck while his hands hold firmly onto my ass. My dress has already ridden up to my waist and I can feel his fingers beneath the fabric of my underwear.

He lays me down on the bed, and immediately, I can feel his hands everywhere. They're on my face as he kisses me, then inside my dress, softly fondling my breasts, and then finally, his fingers are inside me, causing a sharp gasp to escape my mouth. His lips are still on mine, and I already feel like I can't breathe. It's the most exhilarating thing.

Our clothes are gone within a matter of seconds, and it's just as I suspected. The man is flawless. I tend to feel self-conscious the first time I'm naked with someone, but with Rick, it's different for some reason. Maybe because he tells me I'm flawless too. And I believe him, because he's never said anything to me he didn't mean. And the way he looks at me only further proves it.

_All of me loves all of you_  
_Love your curves and all your edges  
_ _All your perfect imperfections_

He moves inside me and it's the most wonderful feeling. By all accounts, I'm completely pinned underneath him, and yet, I feel free. I feel like I'm flying, with him leading the way. The two of us have always communicated well, but sex is an entirely different conversation. The rhythm, the connection, the literal sharing of our bodies, finally. I feel like I  _know_  him.

I love this man.

_Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you_  
_You're my end and my beginning  
_ _Even when I lose I'm winning_

"You okay?" he asks, wiping the tears that have begun falling down to my ears.

I gaze into his eyes, wordlessly promising that I'm fine. I'm more than fine. "Just don't ever stop," I whisper as we kiss once more. And then I get lost in him – the best part being that it's the kind of lost that's exactly like being found.

' _Cause I give you all of me  
_ _And you give me all of you_

* * *

_Lyrics: "All of Me" – John Legend (Love in the Future)_


	6. This Side of Paradise (Epilogue)

When I wake up, Michonne is standing over me, wearing a tank top, some kind of leggings, and a mischievous smile. "Rise and shine," she greets me cheerfully.

It's still dark, so I know it has to be early, and I shudder to think of why she's staring at me like this. "Hey," I answer skeptically.

"You okay?"

"Are you okay?" I wonder.

"Very much so," she returns suggestively. I can only assume her smirk is in reference to what we did last night, which makes me smile too. She's so utterly perfect.

"Then... why are we awake?"

"Because it's five thirty." She says that as if it makes any of this more reasonable.

I sit up in her bed, realizing what's happening. She's got on her running clothes. "You're kidding, right?"

"Come on. This is like the ultimate couple activity."

"Oh, is that what we are now?"

"We have been for a while, when you think about it," she offers a one-shouldered shrug and then leans down to give me a quick kiss. "I'm sure you never even tried on those Nikes I found for you, but we're gonna make it work."

I was still stuck on the couple thing. Nikes? "Michonne, I'm starting to feel like you don't know me at all."

She laughs out loud in response. "I know you quite well, Rick Grimes. I know you'd do anything to make me happy."

Well. She's got me there. "Is that right?"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong," I say with an exaggerated sigh. "What does this run entail?"

"Just three times around the neighborhood."

"Michonne..." This place is easily two miles around just once.

"Seven miles, Rick. That's child's play."

"Funny how you don't make me do this until after you get me to sleep with you," I joke as I throw the covers back. I can't believe I'm doing this. "Feels like a setup."

"Well you had to know what you were doing it for, right?"

I decide that's a fair assessment and pull myself out of bed slowly. But then a big yawn comes out and I immediately want to hop back in. "Don't you think we'd have more fun doing something else?"

She's standing in the doorway now, and she looks ready to go. "I think we'd have fun in the shower after we got back."

"Say no more." I quickly rush out of her room, and within five minutes, I've got on the outfit she'd laid out for me, and I'm meeting her in the foyer.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it," she grins brightly at me.

"This isn't the part I'm worried about." She opens the door, and without another word, takes off for the sidewalk. "Wait a minute," I call after her. "We're not even gonna warm up first?"

She starts jogging backwards to so she can look at me as she replies, "Isn't that what we did last night?"

With a smile, I shut the door and catch up to her before she can make it to the end of our block. "I thought we were doing this together," I say once I'm by her side again.

"And here you are."

"If I die on this run, you make sure to tell Carl and Judith that it was all your fault." She socks me in the shoulder and I laugh out loud. The truth is, this isn't so bad. I've gotten so used to running for my life that a leisurely jog is almost enjoyable. "You do this every morning, huh?"

"And I'm back before any of your lazy asses even know I was gone."

"Why?"

"Why do I do this everyday?" she looks at me as we start to head up a small hill. "Lots of reasons, I guess."

"Like what?"

"Like... it gives me time to think," she answers after a moment of contemplation. "Or not think." Her breath is getting heavier as the hill gets steeper. "Sometimes, you just have to clear. Y'know?"

"Sure."

"And it makes me happy, to run with wild abandon. To run for no reason, other than the fact that I want to. It's a piece of before that I don't mind having back." She starts to move a little faster once we make it to the top. "Like, maybe I'll never see Paris again. But I can run."

"Some good out of the bad," I nod. "All right."

"What was that?"

"I just mean, this is you looking on the bright side of things, making the best of this." Our conversation slows as I become more winded, but we don't stop talking. "Bob was good at that," I add eventually.

"Bob was the most positive person I've met on this side of the apocalypse," she agrees. "It was amazing."

"He told me things were gonna change when we got to Washington," I remember quietly. "I was too skeptical to believe him, but… he was right."

"I was surprised that Eugene's lie didn't deter you at all. We just kept on truckin'."

"Well what else were we gonna do? Go back to Georgia?"

"Well no. But you didn't even threaten to punch him in the face," she laughs. "Georgia Rick Grimes would've put a gun to his head."

I have to laugh too, even if it sounds more like I'm choking. "Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf, Michonne."

"Oh, is that what you're calling it?"

As we continue this jog through our neighborhood, I can see the sun beginning to find its way into the sky. I've seen plenty of sunrises in the past couple of years, especially in our time on the road. Now, I pass them up for sleep. But I suppose that's because I've never really noticed them before – not the way they deserve to be. I've never truly considered how beautiful they are, and what it means to witness one, knowing that you've been granted another day of life.

It's a new day, a new start. Today's sunrise doesn't define itself by last night's sunset. And I think that's what's most striking about it – it's the embodiment of a new beginning.

"So there's supposedly good in all this bad we've endured, right?" she asks, puffing. "But we've watched people we love die. We've lost our families. The Governor killing Andrea and Hershel, and probably Beth by extension; Gareth literally eating Bob." She's shaking her head as her big brown eyes catch mine. "What is the good in that?"

I've thought about this many times. I've wondered how we're supposed to stay strong, or even sane, when the world keeps dumping this endless downpour of disaster on us. But I guess I've come to realize that that's exactly what we've done. We've endured. We've persevered. We've made it to the other side.

"The good… is the experience. What it's taught us, where it's led us." I stop for a moment, partly to catch my breath, but mostly to catch my thoughts. I look at this woman and gain an acute understanding of exactly what the good is in all of this bad. "Everything we've gone through is what brought us to each other."

She turns to me with a smile that matches the sunrise, and for a beat, we just stare at one other knowingly. Knowing that this is just the beginning of something new. And then we continue to run.

 

> " _How beautiful, to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything but to be okay." – Kahlil Gibran_

I knew when I left that train car, bound and gagged, that I would make it back. I didn't know how or when, but I was very clear that I wasn't about to die at a place called Terminus, leaving my kid parentless.

What I wasn't clear on, when I left that train car, was that it would lead me here, to this place of refuge, that I now call a home. She also goes by the name of Michonne. And you know what I've figured out since then? That I'm in love with her.

As her favorite author once wrote, "I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her, and that is the beginning of everything."

Now? I'm really looking forward to the middle.

 

**The End**


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